


The First Son

by PansexualPosey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PansexualPosey/pseuds/PansexualPosey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is the president's son who just wants to go to college on his own without a massive secret service detail following him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or a rip off of "The First Daughter" with a good amount of my own personal twists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I am posting this Prologue to gauge people's reaction to this AU and to find some motivation and idea.

PROLOUGE

 

The warm autumn sun broke through cheap white curtains and caressed caramel skin as it lay sprawled over a frameless mattress. The door to a small room, barely fitting a bed and a small dresser, creaked slowly open and feather-light footsteps made it beside the bed.

 

“Scott. Honey wake up.” A groan was the response. “C’mon Scott, you promised me you’d show me around DC. I did not take a week off and travel nearly three thousand miles to sit in your small apartment.”

 

The tan face rose abruptly from its soft cocoon in shock. “You said it was nice!”

 

“It is honey; it is. Nice and small.”

 

“Mom…” Scott let out exasperated. His mother just smiled softy and shrugged. “Fine, I’m up.”

 

Melissa jumped up and quickly, and repeatedly, clapped her hands, clearly channeling her teenage self before retreating to the kitchen.

 

Scott sighed and brought his hands to his face attempting to wipe the drowsiness away. He shifts to the end of the bed and brings his bare feet to rest on the hardwood floors; they momentarily flinch from the chill, but settle comfortably. Mustering any strength he has not to return to his new silky soft and inviting bed, he sleepily waddles to the restroom.

 

The restroom is on the left in the middle of a small hallway from Scott’s bedroom to the living room / kitchen area. Scott closes the door behind himself and relieves his body of toxins that have been digested. He looks up into the mirror and sighs heavily whilst mentally preparing himself for day showing his mom around the nation’s capital. He is already expecting the times where she will drag him along into every gift shop and cute boutique they find. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he makes his way into the kitchen where his mother is perched on a stool in front of the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. Her hands on the bowl and spoon in front of her and her eyes on the small television Scott has sitting against the wall.

 

“Did you at least save me some cereal?” He asks quietly.

 

“Of course honey.” She says smiling at him. Her smile warm and loving filling Scott’s morning with sunshine. “I mean, I know you’re a growing boy who needs his food Mr. Secret Service agent.”

 

“Moooom” Scott whines. His shoulders slump and his head cocks to the side a bit.

 

Melissa shrugs and swallows the spoonful of Kix she has. “What- Scott it’s the truth.”

 

“I know, but not everyone needs to know that. It’s called _Secret_ Service for a reason.” Scott says before taking his first bite of the most important meal of the day.

 

“Everyone should know! My son: the youngest agent to ever protect the Whitehouse and its occupants.” Melissa announces.

 

“Well, we all know I only got here because of… because of dad.” Scott finishes with a heavy sigh.

 

“Hey, let’s not bring down the mood so early. C’mon it’s a beautiful day and it’s perfect for touring the city. Now let’s deal with something more important, like your mother’s hunger.” She says before shoving a spoonful of Kix in her mouth.

 

Scott just chuckles and shakes his head whilst returning his attention to his bowl.

 

Melissa is watching her morning soap operas when the television goes black for a moment and color returns with the seal of the president of the United States. “What the hell?” Melissa murmurs and Scott looks at her, with an equally confused look, before he turns to the television and raises the volume just a bit.

 

A woman’s voice sounding firm and official plays over the speakers.

 

“ _We interrupt your regular scheduled programming for breaking news. The Whitehouse press secretary Jordan Parrish has called for an announcement at the Whitehouse. Our news correspondent Samantha Miller is on site and awaiting Secretary Parrish’s national announcement._

_‘Samantha, can you tell us what is going on?’_

_‘I wish I could Diane, but no one is clear on what news we are about to hear. We have journalists here from nearly every media outlet, each as clueless as I about what news Secretary Kelly will be sharing with us. We do know that the national public broadcast has taken over every television and radio frequency in order to inform the entire country about what is about to take place. Now, some are speculating that the nation could be under attack from another or that some type of disaster is headed our way, but those are just speculations and we aren’t taking them seriously. Now I do think that- Oh, Secretary Parrish is making his way up to the podium now and is going to address the country.’_

_‘Okay thank you Samantha. We’re going to be covering the entire conference here and I’m going to stop speaking now as we listen to the announcement that Secretary Parrish is about to make.”_

“What do you make of this Scott?” Melissa looked up at him with worry in her eyes.

 

“I have no idea,” Scott replied quietly.

 

On screen, a man in a suit makes his way up to a podium in the Whitehouse. He has fair skin, brown hair, green eyes, and looks a little too young to be doing this job. The man grips onto the podium and looks down and sighs before looking up to the many cameras and journalists in front of him.

“ _I would say good morning, but frankly, I find this morning to be a little grim given the circumstances I am about to share with you. I will not beat around the bush, I will not sugar coat the facts. I am going to be blunt an honest. At approximately 8:32 am eastern standard time this morning, the first lady, Claudia Stilinksi, has died.”_

 

A large gasp can be heard over the television which is paired with a gasp from Melissa who quickly puts her hand over her heart. Scott’s mouth drops slowly and his refined eyebrows furrow in disbelief.

 

At this point, the crowd on screen begins harassing the Press Secretary with their questions.

 

“ _Mr. Secretary!_

_Mr. Secretary!_

_‘yes you in the back.’_

_‘Samantha Miller, channel 6 news, what was the cause of her death?’_

_‘As many of you know, the first lady was battling dementia and today that disease had won.’_

_Mr. Secretary!_

_Mr. Secretary!_

_‘The gentleman in front.’_

_‘James Polk, Washington Post, where is the president?’_

_‘The President is currently on Air Force Once making his way back to the states after cutting the G8 summit in Geneva Short. He is aware of the situation and has asked me to share the news with the American public before scattered, misinformed, reports were shared.’_

_Mr. Secretary!_

_Mr. Secretary!_

_‘yes, you in the blue’_

_‘Sandy baker, Slugline, what about the President’s son, or the Vice President?’_

_‘The President’s son is currently where he should be, at the white house with people close to him, and that happens to include the Vice President and his daughter Allison.’_

_‘Secretary Parrish!’_

_‘Yes, you.’_

_‘What are the funeral plans for the first lady?’_

_‘As of now, no plans have been made yet. The staff is waiting on the president’s arrival. We expect a grand gesture for such a grand woman. Now, we have lost a strong fighter in our country, but we will remember her as the true symbol of love and peace as she was. That’s all for questions now. So if you will allow the president and his family some peace and privacy and keep them in your prayers. I ask that those of you who have American flags, set them at half-staff in respect to one of America’s greatest treasures. Thank you.”_

Melissa, still holding her hand in her heart shook her head. “Oh, my. I can’t believe it.” Hearing a silent sniffle, she turned her head to her son. “Scott? Are you crying? What’s the matter honey?”

 

Scott sniffles again and wipes his face with the back of his hand. He briefly gets a salty taste of his tears in his mouth. He’s quickly engulfed by comfortable warmth as his mother’s arms snake around him. “I- I met her…” Scott struggled to say. “It was only a few months ago… she seemed fine. I don’t know what happened.”

 

Melissa quietly shushed him whilst wiping his tears away with her hands.

 

“Sometimes sickness like that sneaks up on you honey. It happens to the best of us and there’s nothing we can do about it. Especially with something as serious as what she had.”

 

Scott frowned and sighed heavily as the last of his tears fell. “Now c’mon,” Melissa grabbed his hand. “Let’s get out of here and get you out of this funk. I know the news are kind of sad, but you finally have a day off and what better way to feel better than to spend time with your amazing mother.”

 

Scott chuckles and returned the light grip of his mother’s hands. “You’re selling yourself a little too much.” She whacks the back of his head. He laughs and continues, “You’re right, though. Let me change and I’ll show you all this city has to offer.” With that, he bounced off to his bedroom to change.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott fastened his seatbelt in the tinted vehicle as it sped off with a loud squeal of the tires. He adjusts his tie and occasionally glances over to the older woman sitting perpendicular to him. She meets his eyes and gives him a smile.

“Okay, I have to ask.” She started.  “This may be rude and intrusive, but… aren’t you a little too young to be an agent in the secret service?”

 

He chuckled lightly. “It’s not rude ma’am. I actually get that often. Well, my father was an agent before me and he was really good at his job. While I was little he had me train with him. He wanted me to be able to defend myself. Once I was in high school, I was already combat efficient so, they let me enlist my sophomore year. I trained in the service for a couple years and so, around the time I graduated high school, they let me be a field agent. Also… my dad pulled a lot of strings. So it wasn’t all me.”

 

She laughed softly. “I know what it’s like for a father to pull strings for his son, trust me.”

 

He smiled and leaned back into the leather seat. The vehicle they were in moved fast and made sharp turns causing both of them to lean side to side occasionally.

 

“Ma’am, do you mind if I ask _you_ a personal question now?”

 

“Not at all, go ahead.”

 

“Well, I’ve been on your detail for a few days now. And we always go to the hospital. If I may ask, why?”

 

She smiled at him with a beautiful smile that seemed that it could be the solution to every problem that ever existed. “Well, agent…”

 

“McCall. Scott McCall”

 

“Well, Scott… I have a sickness. A disease. I need to see my doctor regularly for tests so they can see what treatments can work with me. It’s not something easily to take care of. So I keep coming back for a different test each day. I swear they take so much blood from me, I’m starting to think they’re a bunch of vampires.”

 

“What is this disease called?”

 

“It’s called frontal temporal dementia. Areas of your brain start to shrink. I sometimes lose control of my body and my vocabulary and cognitive processes are sort of hindered. Basically, I am what you may call an hourglass that has already been turned over.”

 

“Wow, I’m sorry for asking you something so personal. That was out of bounds.”

 

“Don’t be, dear. It’s okay, I’m honest about it. I’m sort of ready for it. The hardest part is my husband and especially my son. I may be ready to leave, but they certainly aren’t letting me pack my bags anytime soon.”

 

“You’re so brave. I don’t think there are any agents in the service, including myself… who are as brave as you. Why aren’t you afraid?”

 

“I’ll tell you something I have always took to heart and have always said in my household. ‘Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but-”

 

“But he who conquers that fear. Nelson Mandela.” Scott finished with a smile.

 

“You, my dear Scott, are just as brave as I. you live without the fear of danger in order to protect others. Not to mention people that you hardly know. And at your age? You have your whole life ahead of you and yet you chose to put your life on the line in order to take care of people. That’s something to be proud of.”

 

Scott just blushed a bit and smiled letting his teeth show a bit. “I think I get that caring part from my mother.”

 

“What does your mother do?”

 

“She’s a nurse. Back home. One of the best, actually. That hospital would fall apart if it wasn’t for her. Same goes for me… She keeps me together too. I’m sorry, I’m ranting and speaking more than I should. I apologize, I’ll just shut up.”

 

She lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head. She’s got this face on that seems like she is all too familiar with the scenario of diarrhea of the mouth. “You should really meet my son; you two are nearly the same age. I know you two would get along.”

 

“Maybe, I’ll get assigned to his detail one day, ma’am.”

 

“Please… call me Claudia.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because so many of you have demanded I continue, and I'm feeling generous.

 CHAPTER 1

 

The full moon’s soft light illuminated the dark halls of the white house. A swift shadow moves across the floors only stopping to hide behind a pillar in avoidance of the patrolling guards. The shadow takes large graceful steps to rush underneath a camera that is just shy of seeing the shadow. It moves quickly into every dark corner and room carefully avoiding detection. It passes the main hall, through the grand dining room and sneaks into the main kitchen.

 

A sly chuckle is emitted as the shadow moves to open the large stainless steel refrigerator. The bright yellow light illuminates the shadow’s face to reveal pale skin, scattered moles, and whiskey-brown, entrancing, eyes. A pink tongue darts out of fairly plump lips in focus. The boy reaches for the large tub of mint chocolate chip ice-cream. He pulls the tub out and sets it on a metal food prep table while fetching a large spoon. He claws out a large portion of the sweet confection and brings it towards his mouth ready to taste the delicio-

 

“Stiles?”

 

“Odin, father of Thor!” Stiles whisper shouts while flailing in surprise. “Allison? What’re you doing here? Why aren’t you in bed?”

 

A young teenage girl steps out of the shadows revealing her fair skin and long dark hair. She lets a sly and accusing smile creep across her face. “I could ask you the exact same question.” She says while folding her arms and cocking her head.

 

“I’m on a highly classified operation here okay? This tub of ice-cream is the perfect ruse for contraband items or weapons that could be smuggled in. I’m just doing my civic duty and protecting the white house from danger by getting to the bottom of this… literally.”

 

She giggles and makes her way to his side. She stops on her way to grab a spoon. “Well, then… we better do our civil duty.” They exchange hushed laughs and dig in to the tub. 1/3 into the tub, they are sitting on the steel prep table with the tub between them.

 

“So how did you get passed them?” Allison asks.

 

“South corridor. There’s a laundry chute that lets me bypass the second floor and the cameras on the edge of the stairs.”

 

“Nice.”

 

“Right? What about you?”

 

“Somersaulted off the second floor balcony and onto the awning of the dining room. Slid in the window and slipped passed a guard standing post out of the dining room and came in through that door.” She finished while gesturing to a door on the far wall.

 

Stiles let out an appreciative him and swallowed the sweet contents in his mouth. “Look at you, Black Widow.”

 

“Please, I’m better than her.”

 

“I’m sorry but you don’t have a latex body suit and two pistols. She wins.”

 

“You’ve never seen me with a bow though.” Allison said smugly slowly pulling a spoon out of her mouth.

 

Before Stiles could retort, the door to the kitchen opened and both teenagers jumped from the table and hid on the side of a fridge near the side door, away from view. A man with grey hair and a robe strode in tiredly, seemingly, magnetically drawn to the tub of ice-cream on the table. The man took one large spoonful of ice-cream and let out a satisfied moan. Stiles eyebrow rose and he appeared from hiding place.

 

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be eating that.” Stiles said crossing his arms.

 

The man turned around and froze with a spoon in his mouth. The spoon was pulled out quickly and the man’s body slumped in defeat. “Ah crap. Stiles you’re killing me here you know that? And what’re you even doing out of bed?”

 

“Don’t change the subject, dad. I said no more sweets. We’re trying to get you on a healthy diet here!”

 

The president just shook his head and put on a defeated smile. “Hello Allison.”

 

Allison stepped out of the shadows as well joining the two men. “Hello Mr. President.”

 

“You kids. What am I going to do with you?”

 

“Nothing if you keep eating unhealthy foodstuffs.”

 

“Stiles, for the last time. Chef Richard has already got me on a strict diet, per your request. God knows how the hell you managed that.” The president runs a hand though his hair.

 

“I can be very persuasive when I want to be.” Stiles says smugly. He loves the power of persuation that he holds. He thinks it’s one of his only defenses… well, that and sarcasm.

 

“Well, I’ve had enough Ice-cream for one night.” Allison cuts in. “I’m going to call it a night. Goodnight Mr. President; goodnight Stiles.”

 

“Goodnight Allison.” They say in unison.

 

Allison tiredly makes her way towards the kitchen door and lets herself out quietly. She gets back to her room on the other side of the building in 12 minutes, but if you ask her she’ll say 10. The guard shift change threw her off her game a bit.

 

Stiles makes his way to the fridge with a, now lighter, tub of ice-cream and puts it back. He reaches in the back of fridge and pulls out an orange. He turns around and tosses it back towards his dad. “There you go, dad. The perfect midnight snack.”

 

The older gentlemen sighs, pulls up a chair, and begins peeling the orange. Stiles sits on the table beside him and gently lets his long legs swing. His batman socks coming in and out of light illuminating from the fridge.

 

Mid-peal, John speaks up. “So kiddo. You ready for college? Exciting.”

 

“Oh yeah, it’s every high-schooler’s dream to watch the best four years of your life go by between the obstructing view of four gorilla sized men strapped with handguns.”

 

“C’mon, Stiles what do you expect? It’s their job to protect you.”

 

“Yeah, but I can take care of myself.”

 

“Stiles” The president gets serious. “You’re my son, and as long as I’m president, there’s always going to be someone there keeping an eye on you.”

 

“You can’t have a normal college experience with guard carefully watching your every move and inspecting everything you come across. I’m only going to be drawing attention to myself and I won’t even be able to make friends.”

 

“You’ll be with Allison. She’s your friend… more than friend?”

 

“Odin’s beard! NO! Dad she’s like my sister. Never.”

 

“Okay, sorry. But, stiles you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

 

“What if I didn’t want to go through with that plan?”

 

“You’re going to college, Stiles.”

 

“I’m aware of that, thank you. I meant… what if I went to a different college… without guards.”

 

“Absolutely not! Out of the question.”

 

“C’mon dad hear me out. I want the average dorm experience. I don’t want to be going through college like some cell under the microscope. Okay? I can’t do that; it’s not right. I want to be able to be free to make my own choices, go where I want to go, eat without a human filter, and meet people without having them go through an extensive cavity search.”

 

“They do not cavity search people, Stiles. Well, once… that Matt guy who was stalking Allison, but that’s a whole other story.”

 

Stiles hops of the table and throws his head back with his hands on his face. “That’s not the point, dad.” He turns to face his father. “I’m 18 years old. I want to be normal. I was okay with leaving beacon hills my sophomore year to go to some DC private school. I was fine with that. Just let me have this, dad. I want to be like everyone else.”

 

“What if something happens to you?”

 

“It’s college! Something is always happening to someone. But, I’ll live. I’ll be able to experience things on my own, learn to make friends on my own, and learn to live, nay, THRIVE… on my own. I’m growing dad. And you, and the entire military industrial complex can’t keep me from wanting to grow up and start my own life.” Stiles stares patiently at his pondering father while he fiddles with his hands nervously.

 

“Stiles, I just... I can’t see how yo-”

 

“Mom would’ve let me.” Stiles murmurs quietly. He realizes how unscrupulous the statement may seem, but, in all honesty, he hadn’t meant to use it as a dirty tactic. He really knew that his mother would let him do it. The effectiveness of changing his dad’s mind hadn’t crossed Stiles’.

 

“You’re right.” His father says, not looking at him.

 

Stiles slowly moves his head up to look at his father. “What?”

 

“You’re right. She would’ve.”

 

Stiles couldn’t think of anything to say. He allowed his gaze to drive down towards the ground once again. He put his hands in his pocket to find them purpose.

 

“I’m not saying yes. Yet.” The president said breaking the silence.

 

Stiles face shot up in surprise meeting his dad’s serious face. He didn’t expect to wear his dad down this easy. He had plenty of more arguments to use. There was a powerpoint presentation made and everything.

 

“Find the other school you want. Apply, and make sure you’re graduating and then, and only then, we’ll talk.”

 

“I already applied, I got in.” Stiles blurted out. Excitement, briefly, getting the best of him.

 

“Wait what?” The President asked scrunching his face in confusion.

 

“I applied to Stanford and got in. Early admission. And of course I’m graduating… Dad… have you seen my grades?”

 

The president smiled and shook his head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

 

“Planning ahead… I take after my pops.” It was true; after everything they’ve been through together, even though Stiles is a little schemer, he learned how to see every angle of things from his father.

 

The man smiles and extends his arms bring his son in for a warm, patent-pending, Stilinksi hug. Stiles hugs back gripping on to his dad tightly trying to savor the warmth between them. “I’m still your son.” Stiles says into his dad’s chest. “Just cause I want to grow up and explore doesn’t mean you’re losing me. I still love you dad.” His dad just kisses the top of his head. “I love you too, son.”

 

“Now let’s get to bed.” The man says. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

 

With that, the two head out the kitchen doors leaving the large kitchen empty and dark just as it once was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story demands feedback and interaction. I mean it. Feedback fuels my inspiration. NO FEEDBACK = NO STORY


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from the dead. After some careful soul-searching and some heavy guilt, I decided not to let this die. Motivation to write is at an all-time low for me. I hope to continue to work on this piece since so many of you have been waiting for it.

Scott sat in his leather chair which was situated in front of his mahogany desk next to a large window that overlooked the National Mall. His back arched and leaning the chair back as far as it could go. His right hand idly tapped a pencil against the desk while the other tiredly held his phone to his ear while his mother talked, for the second hour now, about the latest events in Beacon Hills.

 

“And the new sheriff is a real hard-ass. He gave me a ticket for going 2 miles over the speed limit. 2 miles Scott!”

 

“What a jerk.” Scott said unfocused. He absent-mindedly answered his mother’s stories while finding his pencil-tapping much more interesting. He was stuck at his desk bored out of his mind since he hadn’t been reassigned after the death of the first lady. Desk-work had become his life over the past few months and the occasional phone call from his mother was surprisingly the highlight of his day.

 

“So how are you doing?” She asks.

 

“Me? Fine. Totally fine. Just, you know, saving the world in the middle of the most peaceful time period this world has ever seen.” The current administration had been the cause of a global golden age. Economies were booming, the number of under-developed countries were decreasing, and war was nearly nothing but a blight in human history. The president was even in the process of coordinating a worldwide nuclear disarmament.

 

“You’re bored out of your mind being a pencil pusher aren’t you?”

 

“You have no idea.”

 

“Don’t worry, Scott; something will come along soon.”

 

“Its times like this I regret skipping over college and joining the service. I seriously have no other skills other than being able to takeout an assailant, disarming one, or disassembling and reassembling an SIG P226 in record time.”

 

“Well, it looks like you may just be getting what you want, McCall.” An older stern voice speaks from behind him.

 

Scott quickly turns around and meets eyes with his superior. The man was tall and built like a statue with dark facial hair and green eyes. His face clearly lacking the benefit of an occasional smile. He sternly hovers near Scott while Scott nervously tries to hang up his phone.

 

“I gotta go mom, talk to you soon.”

 

“Okay bye honey. Make sure t-”

 

“I’m sorry about that agent Hale.”

 

“Walk with me.” Agent Hale says seriously and starts storming away from Scott.

 

Scott hops off his chair and stands while fixing his suit and tie quickly before rushing to catch up to the older gentleman. For a large being, agent Hale moves fast. He nearly leaves Scott behind with his broad steps.

 

“What did you mean I’ll be getting what I want? Er… Sir.”

 

“College, agent McCall.”

 

“I don’t understand sir.” Scott furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. Agent hale turns to look at him and, were they not in a professional setting with the role of superior and subordinate, he would say agent McCall looks a bit like a puppy with those soft brown, watery, eyes. In lieu of that, he grabs a manila folder and shoves it to McCall’s chest. “You are a potential candidate for an assignment.” When Scott grabs the folder, Agent Hale begins walking again and Scott trails him.

 

Scott opens the folder and read’s the details of his possible assignment. “Escort service?” Scott asks. “I had no idea the secret service pimped out its agents.” Scott jokes. Agent hale stops in his tracks and turns to face Scott giving him his best deadpan. Fear starts to bubble in Scott’s stomach. People never really found him humorous. It was actually something that kept him up at night. “Ahem… sorry sir.” Agent hale picks up again and starts leading Scott through the building all the way to his office.

 

Scott sits in the chair across from agent Hale. He tries to not let the older agent see how much he enjoys the comfort of the soft leather chair. He allows himself to fall back into the cushion for a second before regaining his professional composure. “Who’s the target sir? And what does this have to do with college.”

 

“Your targe-”

 

“Your target… is an unnamed VIP who you will meet on site…. That is, if you get the assignment. Hello, nephew.” The older Agent Hale walks in. His suit tight and showing a thin, but firm body build. Despite the constant smiles and swagger that the man exhibits, Scott finds this agent to be scarier than his brooding nephew. The older man makes his way behind his nephew, who looks down onto his desk in annoyance.

 

“I can handle telling him myself.”

 

“Oh I have no doubt in your ability to portray the situation to our young agent here.  I just wanted to see this puppy-face kid that the vice-president asked, personally, to be put on this assignment. The one whose name jumped over my entire portfolio of agents more experienced in this sort of work. Did daddy pull another favor before he left agent McCall?”

 

“That’s enough peter!” Agent hale attempted to silence his uncle before anymore antagonizing statements flew from his mouth like the vile snake he was.

 

“Ah ah ah Derek.” Peter said wiggling his index finger in front of the younger gentleman. “It’s agent Hale. You know better than to disrespect your superior officer.”

 

“Fine. Agent Hale, can you please leave my office so that I may brief _my_ agent.”

 

“That’s all you had to say.” Peter said raising his hands with a sinister smile. He leaves the office, but not before shooting Scott another sinister smile. Scott had been gripping on the armrest of his chair tightly ever since Peter brought up his father.

 

“I apologize for that agent McCall… Scott” Derek said bringing Scott out of a lightly angered trance. Scott snapped out of it. “Sorry sir.”

 

“Can you please explain the situation to me please?”

 

“This mission is coming from the top. We’ve never had to do this type of operation with this high risk of a target. And you… you’ve just pissed off 80% of the agency by being chosen for this assignment. The vice president asked for you by name. Normally we wouldn’t do this, but because of the direct order from the executive branch, you’re going into the field.”

 

“Wait. I never asked for this. How could they hate me? I’m confused. And what does this have to do with college?”

 

“This mission is very important and there are way more experienced agents out there. You shot-gunning it to the top of the list, passing hardened veterans, isn’t something people around here take lightly. If you ask me, it’s probably your young age that makes you a perfect candidate. You will be assigned to attend college while befriending and looking over a target there. This person is very valuable to the United States. We do not want to tell you the identity of the target in order to protect them. You’re young… the agency doesn’t want you to lose your composure if you knew the true identity of the target. You could give up your cover and the whole point of this mission is covert ops. Understand?”

 

“I think so? What college?”

 

“Stanford University. You will be assigned as the target’s roommate and most of his classes. Pack your bags McCall… you’re going home to California.”

 

“Wait, I thought you said _IF_ I got the assignment _?”_

“You just did. Peter’s anger confirmed it for me. You’ll be leaving in a couple of weeks. Luckily you won’t be there alone. Half the agency will be there seeing as the President will be campaigning for re-election around that time in that area. You will report to me got it?

 

“Yes sir, and thank you.” Derek just gives one firm nod.

 

Scott took the folder and trekked back to his desk. He was reading over the large file about his target. **Codename: Anchor**. Scott was intrigued and, no doubt, still confused. Why would they have him do this assignment if he wasn’t experienced enough? Who the hell was his target? Why did the vice president ask for him by name? His internal monologue was interrupted when two attractive, fellow, agents approached him. Agent Blake and Agent Argent waltzed over to him.

 

He quickly recognized both agents. They were normally paired together on security detail. The agency finding that their skills were used to their full potential when they were together. Scott recalled the name of the one with the dirty blond hair. He remembers it because of the similarity to the Vice President’s name. ‘No relation between the two,’ he later found out from agent Hale. The other he had not yet had the pleasure of meeting other than a couple greetings as they passed one another.

 

Agent Argent leaned over Scott’s desk, placing her hands on his desk. “Well if it isn’t Derek’s pet. The new pariah here at the agency.”

 

“Hmm, He doesn’t look as tough as they made him seem. Doesn’t look anything like his father.” Agent Blake speaks up

 

Scott closed the file, slammed it on his desk and sat up to look Kate in the eyes. “Can I help you ladies?”

 

Kate slowly stands upright again, not breaking her gaze on Scott or her cruel looking smile. “Woah, relax kiddo. We come in peace. Join us for lunch.”

 

“Our treat.” Blake chimes in.

 

Scott wanted to say no. He wanted to, but he wasn’t about to turn down free food. He agreed and let the two ladies take him to a small French bistro down the Street called **Le Loup-Garou**.

 

They sat on a patio with a warm spring breeze filling the air. The ebony wicker chairs had red cushions and were placed around a steel table. Scott sat back comfortably in one chair while the two agents sat on the other two. A waiter came up and took their orders and left, leaving them with three waters. Scott took sips from his water frequently, unsure on what he was doing here with these agents that he barely spoke to, outside of being on the same security detail.

 

“Relax McCall. We’re not here to hurt you or grill you or anything. We just wanted to really get to know you and offer you any help you need. Honest. For starters: I’m Kate and this is my good friend Jennifer.”

 

“I’m Scott.”

 

“There you go; we’re getting somewhere. Where you from Scott?”

 

“I’m uh… from a small town. Beacon Hills. It’s in California.”

 

“I know it,” Jennifer spoke up “I taught English to juniors there a few years ago.”

 

“You used to be a teacher? How the hell did you get involved with the secret service?”

 

“I could ask you the same question right? Anyway… I got bored of the whole teaching thing and bored of that small town. I called my friend Kate here- who, at the time, was just working as capitol police- and she set me up with the right contacts to begin my training. We got put into service at about the same time. Now we’re living together as best friends.”

 

“Adult roommates huh?” Scott jokes.

 

Kate laughs, “Hey, you little shit. It’s perfectly normal. We’re both just not good at the dating game to find guys for us.”

 

“No we’re good… It’s just that our last venture didn’t end too well.” Jennifer says while Kate shoots her a small nod with her lips pursed to the side.

 

“So those rumors were true?” Scott asks “About you two and Derek?” He vaguely recalls Derek referring to agent Argent as ‘The manipulative bitch from the dark.’ He knew that Derek had … ‘relations’ (as Derek put it) with the two ladies a week a part from each other. Both finding out, and Derek finding out they knew each other caused a shit storm in the agency. Because all were superb agents, no one was fired and the agency avoided a few lengthy lawsuits.

 

“Sadly, yes. But we’re all passed that. But what about you Scott? Got anyone jumping you when you get home? God knows I would if I were just a little younger.”

 

“Gross, Kate.”

 

“I’m just being honest, Jenn.”

 

“Uhm… No relationship. Just work, really. I had one girlfriend named Kira in high school, but after I started training… the relationship sort of fizzled. I was never really good at dating. I’m sort of socially awkward.”

 

“And you got that crooked jaw thing going” Jennifer supplied while pointing to his jaw.

 

“And that.” Scott said nodding in Jennifer’s direction with eyes on Kate.

 

The waiter came back and placed their meals in front of them. The girls each got a wrap while Scott got fish tacos.

 

“So,” Scott started with cilantro hanging from his mouth, “What’s the deal with this assignment that everyone’s pissed at me about?”

 

“Supposedly it’s the biggest one and most risky one the agency has ever had. That’s even taking into account the time former president Frank Underwood tried to visit Ukraine in the middle of that crisis.”

 

“Yeah, Scott you better be careful with this one. If you fuck this up… I can’t even imagine what they’ll do to you.”

 

“They won’t even tell me who I’m protecting. Just his call sign.”

 

“What’s the call sign?” Kate asked.

 

“Anchor?”

 

Jennifer spat out her water beside her. The nearby patrons just looked on in disgust.  Kate’s face froze in shock. “Yeah, you definitely better not fuck this up.”

 

“It’s a guy right? It’s got to be since I have to room with them.”

 

Jennifer decided to jump in, “Yeah it’s a guy. He’s your age. Which, now that I think about it, explains why they wanted you covering him.”

 

Scott could get that, but why did this target have to remain anonymous until he met him?

 

“I know you’re freaking out that you don’t know who it is Scott, but you’ll understand later. You’re young and the agency trusts you; they just don’t want to take any unnecessary risks. Risks like you freaking out who you’re protecting. It’ll all be clear to you later and once you get comfortable with it, you should handle it easy.”

 

“Kate’s right, just meet him in person and everything should go smooth. You have the ability to do it. Who can resist those cute puppy eyes? Also, the only reason everyone is freaking out is because they think this position would get them in good with the executive branch enough for a promotion. However, their fear of your lack of experience is reasonable.”

 

Scott couldn’t think of anything to say. He was just going to have to trust these agents and agent Hale. This lunch settled his bones a bit. He was able to finish his tacos and finally let relief take over him.

 

Kate just raised her hand and looked for the waiter. “Can we have the check please?!”

 

The trio of agents walked back to the office a few minutes later and returned to their respective desks. Kate made sure to leave Scott with a ‘don’t fuck it up’ before giving him a wink and walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how you feel about it. You're suggestions will make this a living story which influence how I may tweak something if i feel won't work for y'all. also it doesn't hurt to leave comments since they could give the writer motivation to write.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back! Hello all, I'm so sorry for leaving this story in the graveyard. I want to bring it back. I likely won't be able to promise any type of regular updating, but I promise to try my hardest not to make you wait over a year like I did.

Stiles set an alarm on his phone to wake him up 5 minutes before his advisor came in to wake him up and caused him to verbally assault her. He hated waking up this early, but he figured he was doing the woman a service. Stiles was already dressed and out of bed when the woman in question, Braden, walked in with a tablet and a touch pen. “Alright that’s what I like to see, you up and at em’ bright and early.”

Stiles scoffed and began tying his last shoe. “Please, I’m only up to protect you from exorcist Stiles.”

Braeden laughed and looked up recalling the last time she woke up Stiles earlier than he’d like. “Yeah, hopefully no more calling me a ‘she-devil of sleep deprivation.”

Stiles chuckled. He was always surprised at the things exorcist Stiles managed to spit out and those who dared awaken him.

“So,” Braeden begins, “You have breakfast in 5 minutes with your father and then you have to get on Marine One by 8:30 in order to make it to Philly by 9:20. Your father will be in his meeting and etcetera until about 4 pm and then that’s wher-”

Stiles’ face shifted pale and dark. He felt the darkness creeping over him again as the thought of his mentally taxing day swept through him. He hadn’t been up for 20 minutes and he was already going to lose it. “Out… I’ll be at all those those things- just… If I hear one more thing that I have to do today I swear to the highest power that I will cause World War III. That is not a threat, it’s a promise.”

Braeden sighed and left the room with a smile leaving Stiles to go about his day with his father. After he got dressed, Stiles opened his bedroom door and ran straight into a large body. Looking up, he met eyes with agent hale. “Going somewhere?” The older gentleman said staring at Stiles with a dark look.

 “Yeah, I was just about to go get you a glass of ‘shutthefuckup” Stiles spat back.

The two stared intensely at each other before Stiles broke. A smile nearly cracked his face in half as he leaned back in hearty laughter. Derek followed his lead with a small smile and a chuckle.

Stiles balanced himself by placing a firm hand on Derek’s shoulder. “How ya doing, Der?”

“Probably better than you right now, I know you hate mornings, and busy days, and almost everything.”

Stiles adjusts his posture upwards, “Yeah, but I learn from the best.” He points at Derek and throws him a wink. He really did learn from the best. Ever since Derek had been put on Stiles’ detail, Stiles had learned very quickly how the brooding adult functioned. Their mutual moodiness and hate for things a tad too chummy, resulted in a blossoming friendship between the guard and the VIP.

“C’mon kid, you gotta eat before you take off.” Derek says while leading the way.

“You coming with us again?” Stiles asks.

“Unfortunately, yes. Congratulations are in order, Stilinski. You’ve succeeded in making my day even grimmer.” The agent says while slouching his shoulders just a bit.

Stiles takes that as an opportunity and uses the fact that Derek is two stairs below him to throw himself onto the back of the agent. Agent Hale lets out a pained grunt at the sudden weight.

“You know you love me you sourpuss.” Stiles says while barely holding onto Derek.

“Get off of me, Stiles. You’re almost an adult, start acting like it.”

Stiles reluctantly jumps off Derek once they reach a landing at the end of the stairs. He harrumphs and follows Derek to the dining room.

After breakfast with his father, Stiles follows Derek as he leads the way to the South Lawn where Marine One waits. Braeden is waiting on the outside with her tablet in hand and hair blowing in her face as the propellers gyrate rapidly. Stiles strides across the lawn passing up a small army of agents surrounding him. Derek gets in right behind him and sits across from Stiles and next to Braeden.

“Anchor away.” Derek says into his cuffs. The door closes and they begin to take off. 20 minutes into the flight, Braeden tries to bring up Stiles’ agenda but is quickly shot down when he glares at her menacingly.

“She’s just trying to help.” Derek shouts over the helicopter blades and into the headset he’s wearing.

“I don’t need any help.” Stiles replies into his headset.

“Is that what you’re going to say when classmates try to help you in college?” Braden replies smirking. Derek looks between Braden and Stiles and a grin cracks across his face, waiting for Stiles’ answer.

“What’re you talking about?” Stiles asks, genuinely confused.

“Don’t play coy, Stiles. You really think your dad wouldn’t ask the entire white house staff what he should do about his son who wants to – and I quote- ‘grow up and leave my sorry ass behind.”

Stiles let out an offended Scoff. His dad was always big on theatrics when it came to big decisions in regards to family. “That man is extremely melodramatic. I just want to be able to go through college without Agent Broodiness over here breathing down my neck and stopping me from having friends.”

Derek let out a huff, “You can still have friends while under guard. It’s not like we don’t allow you to speak to anyone.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow at Derek. “Are you kidding me? You guys practically rip people apart down to their DNA before they could be anywhere near me.”

“Now who’s being melodramatic?” Braden says without looking up from her tablet. Her reply reeks of betrayal in Stiles’ direction and he’s not having it.

“You’re supposed to be on my side! You are betraying this friendship. Don’t get on my bad side; remember what happened to the last assistant I had?” Stiles stares menacingly at Braeden who has just begun shifting in her seat uncomfortably as Stiles’ eyes burn a hole through her face.

Derek saves her by clearing his throat and drawing Stiles’ attention. “Let’s not bring Greenburg into this Stiles.” Stiles nods a bit and sits back letting out an exhausted sigh. They haven’t even been in the air for a half hour, and he was already tuckered out from this trip. Why was everyone fighting him on his decision to go to college? He woke up today to have a good time, and he was honestly feeling so attacked right now.

“You know your dad, and the rest of us, care about you Stiles. We just think it’s a little risky for you to be going to college alone, especially one as big as Stanford.” Derek finishes and sits back against the seat. He stops looking at Stiles and looks out the window to the scenery below.

Stiles takes in Derek’s words. He understands everyone’s concern and skepticism, but just for once, he didn’t want to be treated like a child. Even though he was human, he wasn’t a frail little dandelion that could snap in half if you poked it. He wanted to show everyone, his dad included, that he could be on his own; that he has the ability to be an adult and find his own way. His mother was always about being brave and taking big risks, and he wasn’t going to let her down by giving in to the fear of his father and staff.

Once Marine One landed, Derek along with, what Stiles estimated, 25 agents that formed a wall around Stiles as he walked into the city hall. Stiles was glad that people rarely saw his face, and even more glad that those that did couldn’t recognize him since he started growing out his hair. It made being the center of attention… less the center of attention. He figured it was a good thing, too, since he was done hearing _Hail to the Chief_ after his father’s first year in office. Once inside, He saw his dad in his significantly less dense security wall of two men.

“Okay how in the hell does THE PRESIDENT OF _THEE_ UNITED STATES have only two guys guarding him, and I have an army that could’ve taken down Kim Jong Un when North Korea was Still a threat?” Stiles’ angry banter was met with a couple of sympathetic looks from some of his detail. The young teen just bit his bottom lip and stormed off following his dad’s detail. Agent Hale fought a small smirk while watching Stiles storm off with his squad.

To say that Stiles was bored to death, was an understatement. He listened to his father drone on to the Philadelphia mayor about constituents, and re-elections. Stiles couldn’t even begin to think of why his father would even need to bother with a re-election campaign. He had a 90% approval rating, won his first election by an almost landslide (Thanks a lot Florida), and gave the country a favorable appearance to the rest of the world. The only thing that was currently keeping Stiles’ awake was the fact that the mayor’s daughter seemed to be undressing him with her eyes from across the room.

He got up to use the bathroom after hour 3 of the meeting. He strode down the hall with three guards tailing him keeping their distance at about 5 feet. Stiles walked in to the bathroom and quickly stepped in front of the door when one of the officers tried to follow him in. “Okay, guys… I think I can handle going to the bathroom by myself; been doing it since I was 3; thank you very much.” The guards reluctantly agreed and took positions outside of the door. Stiles walked into the large public restroom and stopped in front of a urinal. While he relieved himself, Stiles feels a ray of light hit his face. He turns and sees a large, open, window at the other end of the restroom and gets an idea.

The guards stood outside the bathroom for what seemed like 10 minutes. Agent Hale strode past the guards who were posted there. “Where’s Stilinski?”

“He’s just in the bathroom sir” The agent standing closest to the bathroom door replied.

“He left the meeting room 15 minutes ago, what the hell is taking him so long?” Derek moves the other agent out of the way and raps on the door. “Stiles? Stiles are you alright in there?” Derek doesn’t hear a reply and knocks on the door louder this time. “Stiles! Stiles answer me right now.” Derek quickly brings his hand to his waist and draws his firearm in a blink of an eye. The other 3 agents follow suit. “Open it.” Agent Hale orders.

The agent next to him brings his leg up and kicks the door off the hinges. All four agents barge into the restroom precise and careful with their movements. Their guns aimed at every corner they pass. “Stiles?” Derek tries one more time, but to no avail. He sees the open window at the end of the room and rushes over to it. The aglet of Stiles’ shoe sits on the window sill. Derek picks it up and brings his cuff to his mouth. “This is agent Hale, we have a code blue I repeat, a code blue. Lock the building down.” Derek turns to the other agents and they rush out of the room.

Once the agents are gone, the giant vent that rested next to the sink gets pushed out and Stiles crawls out of the dark void. Dusting himself off, he smirks at his successful ruse and puts the vent back on. He peeks his head out the door making sure to look down both ends of the hall for guards. He quickly runs across the hall and makes his way into the room directly across from him. He quickly realizes he must be in the mayor’s office. He realizations are confirmed when the office chair behind the desk spins around to reveal an attractive young girl around Stiles’ age.

“Not bad… Not bad at all. Do you always have to do stuff like that to be alone?”

“Actually, yeah- wait- how did you know I was going to sneak away from them when I went to the bathroom?”

“Kind of a hunch, really.” The girl replies with a shy smile. Stiles thinks she looks beautiful. She has long brown hair, fair skin, and deep brown eyes which was always something Stiles was a sucker for. “I’m Caitlin.” She says extending her arm.

Stiles reaches his hand out, but flinches when he hears three agents run by shouting orders. He tries again and grabs her hand gently. Stiles quickly notices how soft her skin and finds himself lost in how smooth it feels when he rubs his thumb across it. “This is normally the part where you tell me your name.” Caitlin says slowly drawing her hand back. Stiles blushes for a second before he cocks his head. “Wait, you don’t know me?”

“Of course I know you. I just… Can’t pronounce your name. I was kind of hoping you’d clear that up. Most of the people I know just call you the first son.”

“Uhm, well you can call me Stiles.” He said just waiting for the common reply.

“What’s a Stiles?” There it is. Even though he’s only been using his new name for almost a year now, he really didn’t expect people to have such a problem with it. Didn’t they know it was a hell of a lot easier than his real name?

“It’s what I like to be called.”

“That’s weird, but okay.” _You’re weird_ Stiles wanted to reply, but he bit his tongue and just nodded. “Anyway, I think it’s cool I got you alone, cause I think you’re really cute and I wanted to make out with you as soon as I saw you.”

Stiles was flabbergasted. He didn’t know what to say, and what words managed to come out of his mouth didn’t make sense. It was as if his mind and mouth were playing Marco polo. “You – with- the I- erm- Me… making in- out, with the PDA in the kisses and the mouth with you?”

Caitlin just froze. The only thing moving were her eyes as if she was trying to literally follow Stiles’ words and they spilled from his mouth. She just nodded and smiled, “Yeah, that!”

She slowly moved in with her eyes closed. Stiles was again at a loss for words. He just braced himself, closed his eyes, and puckered his lips. Before Caitlin’s lips could reach his, firm hands were on his shoulder and ushered him quickly out of the room. Stiles opened one eye and looked up to a very unhappy agent Hale. He relaxed his lips and mentally prepared for the harsh words the older gentleman was about to shout at him.

Instead Derek just smirked. “You know, I was going to find you and tell you how much of a shit-storm you caused with your little stunt; but, that… in there… was so awful-was such a train wreck… It made me forget what I was going to say.”

Stiles scoffed and pushed Derek’s hands off of him. He started walking away from the agent, before he heard him call after him. “Stiles, wait! You have to tell me about the ‘making in with the kisses and the mouth.” Stiles just kept walking away making sure to flip Derek off before he turned the corner and walked back into the meeting room.

The room was empty now and Stiles walked in to an ambush with his father, Braden, and his father’s secretary, Marin. “Quite a show you created out there, kiddo.” The president said.

Stiles shrugged his shoulders and stood up preparing to defend himself. “Yeah, well, you try to use the bathroom with Seal Team Six, over there, breathing down your neck. I’m seriously considering a restraining order on Agent Gomez back there, wanting to follow me into the bathroom.”

John sighed and brought his hands to rub at his forehead. “Stiles, take a seat.”

Stiles’ heart dropped a bit. His father rarely demanded him to do things. He usually just offered passive recommendations. He did so anyway and sat next to his dad.

“Listen Stiles, I know how much you don't enjoy being surrounded by agents all the time."

"Do you, though?" Stiles replied a bit too harsh for even his liking, but he just had to get his point across to his father. "You only have like 2 guards trailing you, and I'm like Queen Elizabeth's jewelry over here. Granted, it does wonders for my ego…”

"Stiles-"

"But I hate being smothered by agents everywhere I go. I'm going to be 18 this year and I don't want to keep being treated like a child. I’m going to college soon…”

“Stiles-”

“No dad, listen-”

“No! You listen, I’m trying to tell you that you can do it.” The president nearly shouted. “You can go to Stanford.”

Stiles stood frozen. For the first time, Stiles had not moved a muscle. His shock evident on his face. Braeden pulled a worried look and made eye contact with Marin who was equally shocked to see Stiles so motionless and quiet.

The president stood up and brought strong hands to grip his son’s biceps. “Son, you’re a growing boy now. I know I can’t always keep you at home where I can see you. It’s just- I just worry about you. You’re all I have. No matter how old you grow, I’m going to see you as my baby and I care about your well being.” The older Stilinski sighed and continued to look into his son’s eyes which seemed to water a bit. “I want you to be able to follow your dreams too. So if you really want to go to Stanford, we’re going to work it out. Marin and Braden have most of the details figured out.

Stiles, still silent, moves his gaze towards the two women in the room. Marin stands up adjusting her pantsuit. “It actually is very possible. After viewing the press attention on the white house for the past few months, you have been out of the spotlight. The majority of the country has sort of forgot you exist.” Stiles snorts and lets a small smirk creep across his face. “I attribute that to how difficult it is to remember, much less pronounce, your name. Even though you no longer use your given name.”

“Not only that,” Braeden chimes in, “I don’t think anyone outside of the White House has seen that you’ve grown out your hair. So even if people do know who you are, they don’t know what you look like anymore. Also, we won’t be far. Your dad has decided to run his re-election campaign from your hometown, Beacon Hills. It’s about 50 minutes away from Stanford.”

“Yeah, But- and this is a big but. I will have a team of agents in the city. Just in case.” The president states waving his finger in Stiles’ direction. Stiles, who has remained silent for the most part falls back into the chair behind him. “I’m really doing it? I can really go to college alone?” Stiles looks up to his father with eyes gleaming with hope.

The man puts a fond smile on his face and pats his son’s shoulder. “Yes, son. You can do it.”

Stiles smiles wide and tackles his father in a tight embrace. John basks in the joyous atmosphere that his son is emanating. Reveling the fact that he was able to make his son happy. He sighs heavily and holds his son tighter. “Ung… okay… dad- can’t breathe.”

“Sorry”

Stiles takes a step back and runs a hand through his hair, still in disbelief. “Thank you so much dad.”

“You’re welcome, son. Now let’s get going. I’m pretty sure agent Hale is-“

“Mr. President, We have to get you on the helicopter, sir.” Agent Hale appears on cue and quickly leaves the room after the announcement.

“Let’s get out of here kid.” John places a firm hand on Stiles’ shoulder and the two walk out of the conference room with their advisors behind them. Quickly Stiles’ field of view is blocked by black suits and various heads of the agents that are surrounding him and his father. ‘Goddammit’ Stiles thinks quickly to himself before allowing himself to be escorted to the awaiting helicopter that will take them to their next destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to leave some comments below and tell me what you think. Thanks all!


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back with another update. I'm studying abroad in Costa Rica so unfortunately, I cannot promise when the next one will be. I hope to have some free time soon.

 

Scott buttons up his white dress shirt and quickly dusts off his pleated pants. He runs a heavily used lint brush over the pants for the third time and the shirt for a second time. He runs his deft hands through his hair making it slick with mousse. He knew the stereotype behind mousse, but he enjoyed how it made his hair stay without the greasiness of hair gel. A sharp knock on the door had him finishing in a hurry.

He opens the door and faced the man before him. Derek, mustering the strength not to give up so soon in the mission, face palms. “What” he says behind his hand, “are you wearing?”

Scott looks down at what he’s wearing and looks up at Derek. “You told me to dress nice!” his face looks like a kicked puppy, and god that look is seriously starting to thaw Derek’s heart.

The older agent sighs and reaches for Scott’s waist. He pulls the shorter boy close to him and he yanks on Scott’s shirt, untucking him. He turns around and digs through a large duffel bag Scott had laying on the bed. He pulls out a pair of jeans. “Put these on.” He tells the boy. Scott complies, and expeditiously switches pants. Derek ruffles Scott’s hair and puts a bit of it up in front.

Scott turns and looks in the mirror. He raises his eyebrows, not recognizing the boy that’s in front of him. He hasn’t seen him since freshman year of High school. His face sours. “I look like a douche.” He says turning to face Derek.

“Exactly. Congratulations, you’re a college kid.” Scott attempts to fix it only for his hands to be slapped by Derek’s. “So. Are you ready for this?

Scott sighs heavily, adjusting his posture to exhibit confidence. “I’m ready. I’ve got my bags, my class information, my ID, and my room key.” He begins to zip up all of his bags and close his suitcase. He makes his way to the dresser where he placed his holster. He flips the strap to find his firearm missing. “Where’s my SIG?” He turns to Derek who is holding up his pistol.

“You won’t be needing this. Your mission is to shadow; we will be in locations throughout the area including some parts of the campus. Should a threat present itself, we would be there faster than you can say Stanford University.” He puts the gun in a safe. The safe came with the hotel room they are set up in, in total about 3 adjacent hotel rooms were repurposed as a mini command center for this operation. It was the perfect location; directly adjacent to campus. “Here is your comm-link. Use this in emergencies only, if you need to get a hold of us.” Scott is handed what looks like a normal wallet clip, but upon close inspection there is a tiny microphone that’s indistinguishable to the naked eye.

“Okay, I’m ready to go.” Scott starts shouldering his bags and begins towing his suitcase to the room door.

“Scott!” Derek walks up to him and fiddles with his hands before placing one on his shoulder. “I know this is a top-priority mission and this will make or break your career, quite possibly your life” Scott looks mortified, wondering why Derek would bring that up. Derek shakes his head dismissively “My point is… This is also a chance for you to live the life you never got to. You’re going to be a student here. Take advantage and learn a few things and… have a little fun, okay?”

Scott smiles. He closes the few inches of space between him and Derek and wraps his arms around him. “Thanks Derek.”

Derek, stunned, has his hands out to his sides, not sure what to do. “what… what is this? What are you doing?” Scott laughs to his chest before pushing himself off of Derek. “That was a hug. When we’re done with this assignment, I’m going to help you find someone to give you more human contact.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Derek opens the door for Scott. “Good luck agent McCall.” Scott gives him a brief nod before marching out the room. When Scott makes the short trip to campus, he takes in the beautiful scenery of the campus. The place is so full of life. There are students hanging out all over, some playing catch, some laying under the sun’s rays, and others finding shelter in the shade with friends or lovers. Scott’s eyes linger on a couple under a tree. The guy is strumming a guitar playing a soft melody while his girlfriend rests her head on his thighs reading a book.

Along with higher education, something that Scott also had to sacrifice was the ability to have a relationship. The demands of his job always took precedence, which meant dating was not really an option. He puts those thoughts out of his head as he reaches the front door of his dorm. He hauls his things up 2 flights of stairs and reaches the room he’s assigned.

 

* * *

 

 

Ocean drive by Duke Dumont is blasting through Stiles’ headphones. He made sure to get to campus as soon as humanly possible so that he could get dibs on the better part of the room and begin to start putting up his posters and anything else he deems should exemplify his territory in the room. Although he was excited to be in college, he was partially nervous about the prospect of having a roommate. Who knows what type of person the guy is. His name from the email Stiles received seemed like a typical douche name. “Jackson Whittemore.” Probably some rich entitled typical frat dude. Stiles mentally braced himself for the ego that was to come.

Stiles was in the middle of hanging his 4th Star Wars poster. He needed to hang it higher than his chair would let him get. Being the genius he was, he figured he could elevate himself by placing one foot on the corner post of his bed. He did just that, balancing on one foot, leaning a little left to tape the far corner of the poster. His arm was outstretched as far as he could, finally getting the corner taped, when the door seemed the slam open, the boom startled him and he was falling back. Great, he was going to die on his first day of college. His skull would hit the ground and shatter to pieces like his hopes and dreams.

Death didn’t come, though; not even pain. Instead, Stiles opened his eyes to be elevated off the ground. Well, more like cradled off the ground by toned tanned arms, attached to an equally toned and built frame of a chest. That was attached to a head with a crooked jaw, a little scruff, lips caught between teeth, a few scattered moles, and two big worried chocolate eyes. This guy caught him. Literally saved Stiles from imminent doom. Stiles removed his headphones slowly from his ears. “Jackson Whittemore?” The guy looked confused. His head tilt to the side like a puppy.

“Uhm, I’m Scott McCall… your roommate?” Who is this guy? Scott wondered in his head? He doesn’t look important. Why did he need to be protected? And from who? Himself most likely given that Scott literally just prevented his skull from meeting the ground. “And you are?” Scott asked.

“Losing my masculinity… can you put me down?” Scott jolted as reality spread across his features and he put Stiles back down. Stiles dusts himself off. When he’s finished he stands straight and offers his hand. “My name is Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.”

Stilinski. The realization hit Scott like a freight train. This is the First Son! Of course! He could see it now. He had his mother’s nose. The little slope at the end of it; and he had her smirk. It pulled down at the corner of his mouth. He took Stiles’ hand and gave it a firm shake. “Pleasure to meet you, dude!” He put on his best smile even though he was internally imploding. He was going to kill Derek for not telling him.

Stiles was impressed. Besides saving him, this guy didn’t hesitate with his name, nor did he look like a douchenozzle that he expected his roommate to be. “I thought my roommate was Jackson? At least that’s what the email I got said.”

“It must be some glitch or something, because I’m assigned here.” Scott replied. He had a quick look around the room. It was tactical; a habit his father taught him. Identify your surroundings, count possible entries/exits, sweep any potentially hazardous items. Scott doubted there would be any weapons or bugs in the room, but he began sweeping the room in the guise of unpacking.

Stiles watched Scott with a calculating look. Trying to figure the guy out. He would unpack clothes to put into drawers but linger in each drawer. Scott’s hands would slide across the frame of each drawer. “You some kind of neat freak or something? Cause I have to warn you, dude. You would have the worst roommate for cleanliness.”

Scott looked confused, but quickly realized how obvious he was being. He nervously brought a hand to scratch the back of his head. “It’s like a weird habit I have.” He answered lamely. “I just like the way the wood in the drawers feel.” As lame as the answer was, Stiles seemed to have bought it and went back to trying to set up a floor fan.

“So where you from?” Stiles asked when he finished assembling the fan. Scott had long finished putting away his clothes and was thumbing through the orientation manual.

“I’m from some small town miles from here. You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“Try me.”

“Beacon Hills?”

Stiles jumped off his bed. He landed with a thump, probably already giving a clue to the room below them how heavy his feet were going to be for the rest of the year. “Wait. You’re from Beacon Hills, too!?”

Scott kicked himself internally, of course he forgot the president and his family were from Beacon Hills. “Uh yeah?” Scott said, trying to play surprised.

“Did you go to BHHS too?” Scott noticed that Stiles was animated and almost explosive in his body movements. His shoulders would move like he was bursting with excitement.

“Only for my freshman year, then I finished high school at Davenport.” Scott was unsure how much information about himself he should disclose; after all, this operation was supposed to be about Stiles not knowing he was with an agent. He figured a little history about himself was fair game since he and stiles would have to spend a lot more time together. He listened and watched as Stiles talked about how much Beacon Hills sucked his freshman year, but then he too had to ‘move away’ and Scott knew all about that, but did his best to be an active listener.

Scott was nervous about Stiles’ behavior. He was clearly a friendly person. Scott could tell Stiles could talk for hours animatedly about whatever subject would get him going. This could be potentially troublesome in large crowds or with shady individuals. In a weird way, though, Scott found it endearing. When you work every day with hardened secret service agents, some of whom, have served in the military, it’s refreshing to find someone who doesn’t take everything they do so seriously. So Scott put on a smile and continued talking with Stiles about the weirdness that is Beacon hills.

From the horrible freshman chemistry teacher, the weird lacrosse coach, and the lack of decent fast food in the city. Their conversation lasted for a good two hours before there was a knock on the door. Scott shot up immediately and made his way to the door. Subtle, Scott. He chastised himself. He looks back to Stiles who also looked weirded out at Scott. He ignored Stiles’ questioning look in favor of opening the door.

There’s another guy standing there. He’s got to be about six feet something, with a nice smile, blue eyes and light brown curly hair. He offers a hand to Scott. “Hi! I’m Isaac. I’m your RA. I just wanted to introduce myself and tell you guys that we’re having an orientation meeting in the Common Area downstairs.” Scott shook his hand firmly. “I’m Scott. And this is my roommate, Stiles.”

Stiles gives Isaac a little head nod. Stiles planned to really enjoy his time in college, and live it up. Honestly, his plans may include somethings that wouldn’t really sit well with the RAs. So it’s best to get that message across early by avoiding getting too friendly with Isaac. Isaac to his credit, gave Stiles his own head nod, but with a smile playing on his lips. “well I’ll see you guys downstairs in 5?”

“We’ll be there.” Scott says sending a blinding smile at Isaac. Isaac smiles and chuckles a bit. And was that… was that a blush as he walked away. Scott’s not going to think too much into it. “Ready to go dude?” Scott asks Stiles who has apparently jumped into his bed with his eyes glued to his screen.

“Dude I hate these things. It’s all happy-go-lucky ‘let’s be friends’ trust falls and ice-breakers. I cannot handle that. I don’t need to make any more friends anyway; I have my roommate; Achievement unlocked: make a friend in college. Plus, I don’t need to know the rules I’m gonna break anyway.” Stiles said that all without looking away from his phone.

Scott was too focused on the fact that Stiles called him a friend rather than focusing on the rest of the troubling statements. He’s never actually had a friend in a while. He works in the secret service, not much time or a personal life. But Stiles had one good conversation with him and declared him a friend outright. He tries to focus his thoughts to objective outlook. “Okay well, uh. I’m pretty sure they’re going to tell us where things like the lecture halls, gym, and places to eat are.”

Stiles sighed heavily, put down his phone and jumped off the bed again. “Alright Scotty boy. You had me at places to eat. I’ll go with you to this, but only because I know I can tell you’re nervous to meet new people and you want your new bud to be there with you.”

Scott deadpans, “yeah that’s exactly why” Stiles laughs and holds the door for Scott. They make it downstairs and sit together on a couch to wait for orientation to begin. Scott’s mind is still reeling from his earlier conversation: ‘he called me Scotty’ he thinks ‘I like it.’ He looks at Stiles, who’s looking at him like why the fuck did I agree to be here, and Scott smiled at him unabashedly. It’s going to be an interesting year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AS ALWAYS make sure to leave some love, or hate (ill take it) below. I love responding to feedback! It gives me motivation to continue writing.

**Author's Note:**

> This time I NEED you all to comment so I have an idea about how you guys feel about this story and maybe send some ideas my way. I cannot guarantee I'll use them all.
> 
> P.S. this is an all non-supernatural fic.


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